Jesus said there is no limit to the number of times we must be prepared to forgive someone in our community. Then, to illustrate the point, he told one of his trademark stories. This is a longer parable, with multiple characters and scenes. As is often the case with the way Matthew tells Jesus’ stories, this one has a violent cast to it. The story in a nutshell goes like this:
A king is settling his accounts with his slaves. Apparently this king not only has slaves, but is like their loan-shark. And the terms of non-payment are pretty severe – you’re sold off, along with your wife and children, and have to sell all your belongings, with the proceeds going to service your debt. Nice. One guy owes ten thousand talents. He begs the king for mercy – and receives it. Wow! That was unexpected, right? What he does in response to having his massive debt forgiven we’ll talk about tomorrow. Today, let’s focus on this king who is capable of such mercy.
Jesus starts the story by saying, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves.” Is he saying that GOD may be compared to such a king? Not necessarily – he says the realm of God may be so compared. At the very least, we surmise that in the economy of God’s realm, the “slaves” or servants owe the king quite a bit, and that settling these accounts is a normative occurrence.
Do we owe debts to God? Some theologians, like Anselm of Canterbury, argued that every sin we commit is akin to stealing from God. If God is perfect and has given us perfect life in his image, then every blemish on that perfection is an offense against the creator, an offense for which we must make restitution. That’s one way to look at it.
Or we might use the language of stewardship, which asserts that everything we have in this life, including our life, our gifts and resources, our relationships, our abilities, is on loan from our heavenly father, for us to use and enjoy and to nurture into growth. In this sense, every time we claim something as ours, from money to credit for things we’ve done, we are snatching what was freely offered us to use. There is no “mine” in this view – and we are always to be ready to account for our use of God’s gifts.
That's a way of seeing the process of repentance and confession – a daily settling of our accounts with God. Do you make a regular practice of confession? We all do it in church, with or without much thought. Some people do it in their own prayer times. Others visit a confessor for the sacrament of reconciliation. To be honest before another person and hear the words of God’s forgiveness is a powerful grace.
Today, we might take an inventory, thinking through our relationships, our work and activities, our use of our gifts, communities we belong to. Incidents of self- centeredness or wounding of self or others sometimes come to mind as we do this, and we can offer them to Jesus for forgiveness.
Or read through a Prayer Book litany like the one for Ash Wednesday – that’ll stir up some repentance.
And when we find we’ve taken more out of the kitty than we can replace, when we have committed too serious an offense to repay – which may be all of them – we rely on God’s great mercy. If it’s anything like the king’s in this story, though the consequences could be extremely dire, we can walk away with our books balanced, nothing hanging over our heads. How great a feeling that is!
9-8-14 - Forgiveness Without End
Last week we explored what happens when one member of the community is hurt or offended by another. Jesus laid out a process of confrontation leading to resolution, positive or negative. Peter must have been thinking ahead, for he realized it wasn’t enough to be able to address conflict or banish offenders… if what Jesus had been saying all along meant anything, reconciliation was going to have to include forgiveness. How far was that supposed to go?
Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.” (This week's gospel passage is here.)
In another gospel, it’s translated “seventy times seven.” I once wrote a short story called “The 489th Wrong,” about a woman who finally reaches that number of times she feels she’s forgiven her husband, and she’s thrilled that she doesn’t have to do it anymore (wrong!). But it’s not about the math. Seven is one of those infinite numbers, so Jesus is basically saying, “As many times as needed.” There is no end to the number of times Christ-followers are called to forgive.
The deeper the wound, the more forgiveness costs us. I see forgiveness as “giving for.” Someone has taken something from you; they owe it, and you pay yourself for them – in effect, you lose twice. Why do that? Because it cancels the debt, clears the field, resets the clock, frees you and the other person. That’s one reason.
The other, as we’ll see from the parable Jesus uses to illustrate his point, is that while we’re busy trying to decide whether or not to forgive someone, somebody else is no doubt wrestling with forgiving us. And even if we’ve offended no one on earth, chances are we’ve done, said or thought something that makes us less than who God intended us to be, and therefore we need God’s forgiveness. When we think about how many times we ask God to forgive us, often for the same darn thing, we’re more inclined to cut each other some slack. That’s what the great hymn “Forgive our sins” reminds us.
Is there someone whom you have been unable to forgive? A resentment that sits there within you? Chances are that wound remains unhealed, and gets reopened periodically, either by that person or by similar feelings. What feelings come up when you think about forgiving that person, releasing that debt?
If you don’t yet feel ready to forgive, might you be willing to let God do it? That’s one way we can pray toward forgiveness, by praying, “Lord, I can’t forgive this person… but if you want to, I guess that’s okay.” Just praying that will shift the landscape a bit, generate some space, and the Holy Spirit will work with whatever space we give. If you're willing to go a little further, pray, "And if you want me to, please give me a desire to forgive..." That's another opening.
Our “forgiveness muscles” need to be exercised just like everything else in us. Wouldn’t it be great if we could get to the point where we thank those who hurt and bother us for giving us the opportunity to practice forgiveness, over and over and over again? Practice makes perfect...
Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.” (This week's gospel passage is here.)
In another gospel, it’s translated “seventy times seven.” I once wrote a short story called “The 489th Wrong,” about a woman who finally reaches that number of times she feels she’s forgiven her husband, and she’s thrilled that she doesn’t have to do it anymore (wrong!). But it’s not about the math. Seven is one of those infinite numbers, so Jesus is basically saying, “As many times as needed.” There is no end to the number of times Christ-followers are called to forgive.
The deeper the wound, the more forgiveness costs us. I see forgiveness as “giving for.” Someone has taken something from you; they owe it, and you pay yourself for them – in effect, you lose twice. Why do that? Because it cancels the debt, clears the field, resets the clock, frees you and the other person. That’s one reason.
The other, as we’ll see from the parable Jesus uses to illustrate his point, is that while we’re busy trying to decide whether or not to forgive someone, somebody else is no doubt wrestling with forgiving us. And even if we’ve offended no one on earth, chances are we’ve done, said or thought something that makes us less than who God intended us to be, and therefore we need God’s forgiveness. When we think about how many times we ask God to forgive us, often for the same darn thing, we’re more inclined to cut each other some slack. That’s what the great hymn “Forgive our sins” reminds us.
Is there someone whom you have been unable to forgive? A resentment that sits there within you? Chances are that wound remains unhealed, and gets reopened periodically, either by that person or by similar feelings. What feelings come up when you think about forgiving that person, releasing that debt?
If you don’t yet feel ready to forgive, might you be willing to let God do it? That’s one way we can pray toward forgiveness, by praying, “Lord, I can’t forgive this person… but if you want to, I guess that’s okay.” Just praying that will shift the landscape a bit, generate some space, and the Holy Spirit will work with whatever space we give. If you're willing to go a little further, pray, "And if you want me to, please give me a desire to forgive..." That's another opening.
Our “forgiveness muscles” need to be exercised just like everything else in us. Wouldn’t it be great if we could get to the point where we thank those who hurt and bother us for giving us the opportunity to practice forgiveness, over and over and over again? Practice makes perfect...
9-5-14 - Promise of Presence
Sometimes I wish Jesus would show up and set a few things straight in this messed up world of ours – if people would pay more attention than they did the first time around. But that idle wish misses a big ol’ point: He is here. He said he would be. It’s up to us to discern him and to make him known.
“For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them,” is a promise. A promise of presence. To unfold that promise, though, requires a few steps of faith on our part.
First, we must be able to distinguish between flesh and spirit. Jesus said that fleshly reality was limited, and spiritual reality never-ending. Jesus’ enfleshed presence was time-and-space-limited, 33 years or so, give or take, in one region of the world. His presence in a resurrection body lasted about 40 days. His spiritual presence is eternal, and still going strong among those who choose to believe in his promise.
The other article of faith we need to affirm is the idea of Jesus living in us. I tend to take the promises of baptism at face value - the promise is that we are united with Christ, made a new creation, given a new heart and a new spirit – his spirit. So Paul wrote, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” But we are not filled with his spirit in an “invasion of the body snatchers” way. Rather, his spirit joined with mine brings forth a new person, that most true “Kate” (fill in your name) that can possibly be.
If Christ dwells in us, abides in us, then he is real in us. And when we gather with others in whom Christ lives, his presence can become even stronger and more real. By believing and joining together, we make Christ present in our world, not just a suggestion of presence, but fully here, spiritually speaking. (We have to supply the flesh and blood.)
How might it change our lives and ministries if we brought this reality more fully to our consciousness? If, when we gathered together, we knew Jesus was among us, and spoke and acted and prayed like we knew we were in the presence of the all-powerful God? If, when we engaged in ministry, we made sure we were in teams of at least two, so that the power of Christ’s presence would fill and empower our work in his name? At the shelter, with a depressed friend, at a meeting. Don’t get me wrong – Christ is present when we’re alone too. But he said when two or three of us – our more – gathered in his name, he would be in our midst. That's huge!
Where do you think it would be great if Jesus showed up this weekend? It might be a place, a person, a situation… Do you have any idea how you might bring him there, with two or three others?
Going deeper… where do you think he might want to go? You might get quiet in prayer today or Saturday morning, and ask him: “Jesus, where do you want me to take you today, to make you known?”
I can’t wait to hear how those prayers turn out. I do know the world needs a lot more Jesus, and we’re just the ones to help make him known.
“For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them,” is a promise. A promise of presence. To unfold that promise, though, requires a few steps of faith on our part.
First, we must be able to distinguish between flesh and spirit. Jesus said that fleshly reality was limited, and spiritual reality never-ending. Jesus’ enfleshed presence was time-and-space-limited, 33 years or so, give or take, in one region of the world. His presence in a resurrection body lasted about 40 days. His spiritual presence is eternal, and still going strong among those who choose to believe in his promise.
The other article of faith we need to affirm is the idea of Jesus living in us. I tend to take the promises of baptism at face value - the promise is that we are united with Christ, made a new creation, given a new heart and a new spirit – his spirit. So Paul wrote, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” But we are not filled with his spirit in an “invasion of the body snatchers” way. Rather, his spirit joined with mine brings forth a new person, that most true “Kate” (fill in your name) that can possibly be.
If Christ dwells in us, abides in us, then he is real in us. And when we gather with others in whom Christ lives, his presence can become even stronger and more real. By believing and joining together, we make Christ present in our world, not just a suggestion of presence, but fully here, spiritually speaking. (We have to supply the flesh and blood.)
How might it change our lives and ministries if we brought this reality more fully to our consciousness? If, when we gathered together, we knew Jesus was among us, and spoke and acted and prayed like we knew we were in the presence of the all-powerful God? If, when we engaged in ministry, we made sure we were in teams of at least two, so that the power of Christ’s presence would fill and empower our work in his name? At the shelter, with a depressed friend, at a meeting. Don’t get me wrong – Christ is present when we’re alone too. But he said when two or three of us – our more – gathered in his name, he would be in our midst. That's huge!
Where do you think it would be great if Jesus showed up this weekend? It might be a place, a person, a situation… Do you have any idea how you might bring him there, with two or three others?
Going deeper… where do you think he might want to go? You might get quiet in prayer today or Saturday morning, and ask him: “Jesus, where do you want me to take you today, to make you known?”
I can’t wait to hear how those prayers turn out. I do know the world needs a lot more Jesus, and we’re just the ones to help make him known.
9-4-14 - Agreement
Some promises are dangerous, offering more than can seemingly be delivered. This statement of Jesus’ strikes me that way: “Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven.” Anything? If even just two of us agree?
Is this a promise with a back-door clause – is it so unlikely that two people on earth would ever fully agree about any request, God has an automatic out? No, let’s assume Jesus was being straightforward. Which might leave us doubting God, knowing that we have prayed for outcomes with many people in whole-hearted agreement as to their desirability, without seeing them come to pass. Exhibit A are prayers for healing that are not visibly answered.
This is one of those bible verses that cannot be separated from the one that follows. It only accords with both faith and experience when seen in tandem with this: “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”
Ah, now we’re not only talking about human agreement. We’re talking about being gathered as the Body of Christ, in his very presence. To pray in Jesus’ name is to pray as Christ; to pray from inside, as it were; to invoke the power that his very name makes known. To pray in Jesus’ name is to pray in agreement with him, and thus to pray with perfect faith. Our own is far from perfect, but Jesus’ is 100%. When we pray with Jesus, not only to Jesus, we have all the faith we need.
So why are some of our prayers not answered as we desire? Perhaps we weren’t quite praying in Christ. Maybe we were bringing forward our desires and seeking Christ’s blessing upon them, like a pie at the county fair. “Here, isn’t this one good?” Sometimes that yields answers we recognize. But our prayers feel more effective when we pray what Jesus is already praying for; his prayers come pre-blessed.
What are some of those “unanswered prayers” in your life?
I think most of us have some, and they often put distance between us and God. Call one to mind today.
Have you ever asked God what God thinks about that prayer? Ever discussed it with Jesus? Ever paid attention to the Spirit in you when you pray about that?
We might even try asking God: "What is your desire for me in this area?" We might be surprised at how God answers us. We might have to stay still for a time, and attend to what words or images or songs arise in us. Or it might hit us later.
Prayer isn’t about getting what we want; it’s about deepening a relationship, one that will last forever. We need to speak our desires - that's just good communicating, being real. But the more we cultivate intimacy with Jesus, the more we’ll find ourselves truly praying in his name, his will, his mind, his heart.
And sometimes, as Garth Brooks reminds us, there are reasons we only discover later for what feel like Unanswered Prayers.
Is this a promise with a back-door clause – is it so unlikely that two people on earth would ever fully agree about any request, God has an automatic out? No, let’s assume Jesus was being straightforward. Which might leave us doubting God, knowing that we have prayed for outcomes with many people in whole-hearted agreement as to their desirability, without seeing them come to pass. Exhibit A are prayers for healing that are not visibly answered.
This is one of those bible verses that cannot be separated from the one that follows. It only accords with both faith and experience when seen in tandem with this: “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”
Ah, now we’re not only talking about human agreement. We’re talking about being gathered as the Body of Christ, in his very presence. To pray in Jesus’ name is to pray as Christ; to pray from inside, as it were; to invoke the power that his very name makes known. To pray in Jesus’ name is to pray in agreement with him, and thus to pray with perfect faith. Our own is far from perfect, but Jesus’ is 100%. When we pray with Jesus, not only to Jesus, we have all the faith we need.
So why are some of our prayers not answered as we desire? Perhaps we weren’t quite praying in Christ. Maybe we were bringing forward our desires and seeking Christ’s blessing upon them, like a pie at the county fair. “Here, isn’t this one good?” Sometimes that yields answers we recognize. But our prayers feel more effective when we pray what Jesus is already praying for; his prayers come pre-blessed.
What are some of those “unanswered prayers” in your life?
I think most of us have some, and they often put distance between us and God. Call one to mind today.
Have you ever asked God what God thinks about that prayer? Ever discussed it with Jesus? Ever paid attention to the Spirit in you when you pray about that?
We might even try asking God: "What is your desire for me in this area?" We might be surprised at how God answers us. We might have to stay still for a time, and attend to what words or images or songs arise in us. Or it might hit us later.
Prayer isn’t about getting what we want; it’s about deepening a relationship, one that will last forever. We need to speak our desires - that's just good communicating, being real. But the more we cultivate intimacy with Jesus, the more we’ll find ourselves truly praying in his name, his will, his mind, his heart.
And sometimes, as Garth Brooks reminds us, there are reasons we only discover later for what feel like Unanswered Prayers.
9-3-14 - Free to Set Free
Do we want this much power? Several times Jesus sets the authority to offer or withhold forgiveness into a cosmic framework, saying that what we do in this world is mirrored in the heavenly realm. “Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Yikes.
Maybe Jesus teaches this process of confrontation and reconciliation because there are such cosmic consequences to ignoring conflict and pain. When we bury our hurts, sweep our conflicts under the rug, not only do we stay bound, we keep the perpetrators of hurts bound to us. No one is free.
I have said before, and will again, that I believe what God wants most for us is freedom. And I have seen the process of healing and forgiving result in amazing freedom for people, huge releasing of energy and giftedness, new ability to see, to hope, to live. As I reflect on this, I keep thinking of stories of survivors of sexual abuse and trauma. (There is nothing explicit in the next few paragraphs, but if this is a sensitive area for you, read with care.)
I was once in a group praying for months with a friend who was a survivor of sexual abuse throughout her life – it’s not unusual for people who have been victimized as children to suffer similar abuse in adulthood. This woman saw herself more as victim than survivor, and harmed herself as well. One time I said something about moving toward forgiveness. She turned on me in fury and said, “They told me in my support group that I don’t ever have to forgive!” I backed down, thinking, “That is true – but then will you ever be free?” Forgiveness cannot be rushed, but to close ourselves to it leaves us bound to people who have hurt us.
Years later I met another woman. She and her two sisters had been sexually abused throughout childhood by her father and grandfather, who were still alive and in the family. She had done the excruciating work of addressing those wounds and moving toward healing, and had come to a place of forgiveness of her abusers. She did not trust or get close to them, and worked to ensure the safety of children in the family system, but over time she released the awful burden of their crimes. And then she was no longer psychically connected to them – forgiveness meant freedom from them. Her sisters refused to do this work; one was deeply alcoholic and the other suicidal. As brutal as it is to work at healing from trauma, it is a movement toward freedom, and life.
Many of us have not experienced trauma this severe – but we might feel bound in some way by a hurt we have suffered or anger we continue to hold. Usually the anger is justified; it can still be corrosive over time. Today, we might let some of those stuck places come up in our mind, and pray about forgiving people who have hurt us, or asking forgiveness of those whom we have hurt. If we ask the Spirit to show us those things, they often emerge from the muck.
Inner healing is a powerful process of bringing the love of God to bear on our emotional wounds. I have witnessed tremendous transformation result from the healing of memories and specific areas of woundedness. (If you want to know more about this process, please contact me.)
As we release that healing stream of God’s love and power to seek out the hidden wounds and resentments, life returns to parched places, and old knots become unwound so that peace can flood in. “It is for freedom that Christ has made us free,” Paul wrote. Jesus has won for us freedom to release ourselves and others. Let’s set the captives free.
Maybe Jesus teaches this process of confrontation and reconciliation because there are such cosmic consequences to ignoring conflict and pain. When we bury our hurts, sweep our conflicts under the rug, not only do we stay bound, we keep the perpetrators of hurts bound to us. No one is free.
I have said before, and will again, that I believe what God wants most for us is freedom. And I have seen the process of healing and forgiving result in amazing freedom for people, huge releasing of energy and giftedness, new ability to see, to hope, to live. As I reflect on this, I keep thinking of stories of survivors of sexual abuse and trauma. (There is nothing explicit in the next few paragraphs, but if this is a sensitive area for you, read with care.)
I was once in a group praying for months with a friend who was a survivor of sexual abuse throughout her life – it’s not unusual for people who have been victimized as children to suffer similar abuse in adulthood. This woman saw herself more as victim than survivor, and harmed herself as well. One time I said something about moving toward forgiveness. She turned on me in fury and said, “They told me in my support group that I don’t ever have to forgive!” I backed down, thinking, “That is true – but then will you ever be free?” Forgiveness cannot be rushed, but to close ourselves to it leaves us bound to people who have hurt us.
Years later I met another woman. She and her two sisters had been sexually abused throughout childhood by her father and grandfather, who were still alive and in the family. She had done the excruciating work of addressing those wounds and moving toward healing, and had come to a place of forgiveness of her abusers. She did not trust or get close to them, and worked to ensure the safety of children in the family system, but over time she released the awful burden of their crimes. And then she was no longer psychically connected to them – forgiveness meant freedom from them. Her sisters refused to do this work; one was deeply alcoholic and the other suicidal. As brutal as it is to work at healing from trauma, it is a movement toward freedom, and life.
Many of us have not experienced trauma this severe – but we might feel bound in some way by a hurt we have suffered or anger we continue to hold. Usually the anger is justified; it can still be corrosive over time. Today, we might let some of those stuck places come up in our mind, and pray about forgiving people who have hurt us, or asking forgiveness of those whom we have hurt. If we ask the Spirit to show us those things, they often emerge from the muck.
Inner healing is a powerful process of bringing the love of God to bear on our emotional wounds. I have witnessed tremendous transformation result from the healing of memories and specific areas of woundedness. (If you want to know more about this process, please contact me.)
As we release that healing stream of God’s love and power to seek out the hidden wounds and resentments, life returns to parched places, and old knots become unwound so that peace can flood in. “It is for freedom that Christ has made us free,” Paul wrote. Jesus has won for us freedom to release ourselves and others. Let’s set the captives free.
9-2-14 - Cast Out
In our gospel passage for this week, Jesus lays out a three- step process for dealing with conflict in the community of faith, by which someone who has inflicted hurt is invited to participate in repentance and reconciliation. And he provides a contingency for those occasions when the offending party is unable or unwilling to be reconciled: “If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.”
On the face of it, this approach seems realistic, if a bit harsh. If trust has been breached in the community and attempts at repair have failed, perhaps wholeness can only be gained by isolating the offender. No doubt this is the teaching that gave rise to the practice of shunning and excommunication in some Christian traditions. Separating an offender from the community at large can be an act of punishment or protection, or both. It is also itself an act of aggression, even if warranted at times, perhaps in the case of an abusive spouse or parent whose presence in the community would make it impossible for the survivor to feel safe.
I wonder, though, if Jesus meant something different by these words. I remember years ago my friend Aldon noting that the way Jesus treated Gentiles and tax collectors was to eat with them and heal them, invite them to repent and to join his community. The people he seemed to have no desire to be in relationship with were the "holy men," the religious leaders. Is Jesus inviting us to go deeper into reconciliation than seems comfortable? Is he suggesting we open ourselves to the Other who has hurt us, see his wounds and distorted perceptions, reach across the divide with love that has the power to transform?
That is an intriguing read of this passage. As a strategy, it leaves room for growth, where distancing and isolating offenders does not. Of course, each situation demands its own discernment. Reaching out must be accompanied by true honesty, within safe boundaries for those hurt. I think of the Truth Commissions set up in South Africa during the dismantling of apartheid. Reconciliation was forged not by burying grievances, but by bringing them into the light, speaking them in truth and clarity, with the perpetrators there to hear the effects of their actions and invited to repent. Healing for victims can happen without the repentance of perpetrators, but when you have both, you have seeds for deeper engagement, deeper community.
Think of someone who you have shut out of your life or community because of harm they have caused.
Can you imagine reconciliation on any level? If so, pray for a vision of how.
If not, can you pray for that person to be healed and even blessed?
When someone is blessed, she is much less able to hurt.
I knew a community in which a new member was found to have been viewing internet pornography involving minors. He did not hide from law enforcement when he was discovered, but entered willingly into the justice process and into therapy, hoping to find deliverance from this compulsive behavior. But people in the church were unwilling to have him around, except under very stringent guidelines – rules which ensured he could never become part of that otherwise loving community in which he might have found healing and transformation. I believe safety for all could have been ensured without this degree of exclusion – but we’ll never know. He did not stay long under these strictures, and neither he nor his wife continued their exploration of the Christian life. And some members of that church missed an opportunity to expand their capacity to love the sinner – and so to experience God’s love more fully.
None of this is easy, nor simple. But I believe it is the Good News which we are called to live.
On the face of it, this approach seems realistic, if a bit harsh. If trust has been breached in the community and attempts at repair have failed, perhaps wholeness can only be gained by isolating the offender. No doubt this is the teaching that gave rise to the practice of shunning and excommunication in some Christian traditions. Separating an offender from the community at large can be an act of punishment or protection, or both. It is also itself an act of aggression, even if warranted at times, perhaps in the case of an abusive spouse or parent whose presence in the community would make it impossible for the survivor to feel safe.
I wonder, though, if Jesus meant something different by these words. I remember years ago my friend Aldon noting that the way Jesus treated Gentiles and tax collectors was to eat with them and heal them, invite them to repent and to join his community. The people he seemed to have no desire to be in relationship with were the "holy men," the religious leaders. Is Jesus inviting us to go deeper into reconciliation than seems comfortable? Is he suggesting we open ourselves to the Other who has hurt us, see his wounds and distorted perceptions, reach across the divide with love that has the power to transform?
That is an intriguing read of this passage. As a strategy, it leaves room for growth, where distancing and isolating offenders does not. Of course, each situation demands its own discernment. Reaching out must be accompanied by true honesty, within safe boundaries for those hurt. I think of the Truth Commissions set up in South Africa during the dismantling of apartheid. Reconciliation was forged not by burying grievances, but by bringing them into the light, speaking them in truth and clarity, with the perpetrators there to hear the effects of their actions and invited to repent. Healing for victims can happen without the repentance of perpetrators, but when you have both, you have seeds for deeper engagement, deeper community.
Think of someone who you have shut out of your life or community because of harm they have caused.
Can you imagine reconciliation on any level? If so, pray for a vision of how.
If not, can you pray for that person to be healed and even blessed?
When someone is blessed, she is much less able to hurt.
I knew a community in which a new member was found to have been viewing internet pornography involving minors. He did not hide from law enforcement when he was discovered, but entered willingly into the justice process and into therapy, hoping to find deliverance from this compulsive behavior. But people in the church were unwilling to have him around, except under very stringent guidelines – rules which ensured he could never become part of that otherwise loving community in which he might have found healing and transformation. I believe safety for all could have been ensured without this degree of exclusion – but we’ll never know. He did not stay long under these strictures, and neither he nor his wife continued their exploration of the Christian life. And some members of that church missed an opportunity to expand their capacity to love the sinner – and so to experience God’s love more fully.
None of this is easy, nor simple. But I believe it is the Good News which we are called to live.
9-1-14 - Conflict
Conflict is a fact of life – or at least a fact of human nature. Wherever two or three are gathered, there are likely to be four or five competing desires (sometimes within one person.) We don’t all see things the same way; each has her own lens borne of her own history and circumstances and brain chemistry. We don’t all want or feel we need the same things. inevitably what one person wants gets in the way of some other good, as, say, a desire for untrammeled speed will compromise the safety of others.
Christian communities are not immune to conflict. In some ways, they are conflict incubators, since people come to them hoping for the idyllic family they never had, dragging along their thwarted, dysfunctional baggage. Conflict within a church family is a given. It’s what we do with it that makes the difference. As my friend Peter likes to say, “Conflict doesn’t kill churches. Suppressed conflict kills churches.”
Jesus knew that the community of his followers would include hurt and conflict – witness the infighting among his disciples while he was yet with them. So he provided a process for dealing with it:
“If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church.” (This week's Gospel passage here.)
Jesus’ teaching makes so much psychological sense. First we are to have the courage and respect to speak privately to the person who’s hurt us. Don’t triangulate conflicts by talking to a third person before sharing your feelings honestly with the first. How many conflicts could be quickly deflated by this simple step – and yet, many of us have been conditioned not to confront people, so we let it escalate.
If that conversation goes nowhere because the other person isn’t open to hearing how you feel, Jesus says to bring in that third or fourth person – but in the presence of the one who’s hurt you, not behind his back. Now it becomes a community issue, and out in the light.
And if that doesn’t work, he says to bring your grievance before the whole community. What happens when we do that? We model openness and vulnerability and transparency. We’ve invited prayer for ourselves and the person who’s hurt us. We’ve offered a wound for healing and opened ourselves to the transforming power of love. Can this get messy? Sure it can. But not nearly as toxic as a conflict that is allowed to fester.
Can you think of a time when you were hurt by someone in your community of faith? Were you able to speak it? Did you speak of it to others before you spoke to that person? I’m guilty of that. Did you distance yourself from that person or the community? Have you forgiven?
If the memory is still painful, that means it’s not healed – that’s something to invite the Holy Spirit into. It’s never too late to forgive and be set free, even if that person is no longer in your life.
Of course, this teaching assumes relationship and intimacy within the Body of Christ. Many of our congregations are far from that. Maybe that’s where we start – by getting close enough that hurts can happen. And loving enough to forgive and heal.
Christian communities are not immune to conflict. In some ways, they are conflict incubators, since people come to them hoping for the idyllic family they never had, dragging along their thwarted, dysfunctional baggage. Conflict within a church family is a given. It’s what we do with it that makes the difference. As my friend Peter likes to say, “Conflict doesn’t kill churches. Suppressed conflict kills churches.”
Jesus knew that the community of his followers would include hurt and conflict – witness the infighting among his disciples while he was yet with them. So he provided a process for dealing with it:
“If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church.” (This week's Gospel passage here.)
Jesus’ teaching makes so much psychological sense. First we are to have the courage and respect to speak privately to the person who’s hurt us. Don’t triangulate conflicts by talking to a third person before sharing your feelings honestly with the first. How many conflicts could be quickly deflated by this simple step – and yet, many of us have been conditioned not to confront people, so we let it escalate.
If that conversation goes nowhere because the other person isn’t open to hearing how you feel, Jesus says to bring in that third or fourth person – but in the presence of the one who’s hurt you, not behind his back. Now it becomes a community issue, and out in the light.
And if that doesn’t work, he says to bring your grievance before the whole community. What happens when we do that? We model openness and vulnerability and transparency. We’ve invited prayer for ourselves and the person who’s hurt us. We’ve offered a wound for healing and opened ourselves to the transforming power of love. Can this get messy? Sure it can. But not nearly as toxic as a conflict that is allowed to fester.
Can you think of a time when you were hurt by someone in your community of faith? Were you able to speak it? Did you speak of it to others before you spoke to that person? I’m guilty of that. Did you distance yourself from that person or the community? Have you forgiven?
If the memory is still painful, that means it’s not healed – that’s something to invite the Holy Spirit into. It’s never too late to forgive and be set free, even if that person is no longer in your life.
Of course, this teaching assumes relationship and intimacy within the Body of Christ. Many of our congregations are far from that. Maybe that’s where we start – by getting close enough that hurts can happen. And loving enough to forgive and heal.
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